Not panicking!
by Sophia Banks
Summary: When Sherlock woke up that morning his plan for the day did not include taking his brother's pregnant wife to the hospital-but that's what happened. Isabelle Holmes goes to 221B only to begin labor; Mycroft is gone on some sort of business so it's left to Sherlock to make sure she comes out ok. (Does not include birth scene-Guessed at T as a rating)


**I apologize in advance for any mistakes made with the contractions and otherwise-I've watched tons of Cosby Show and yet have very little knowledge on the matter. ;)  
An another note if anyone wants to correct me on anything in here (grammatical errors\typos, Britishisms, etc) go ahead as long as there's a compliment to go along side it (which might be hard Lol)  
Anywho, onto the story!**

* * *

When Sherlock Holmes woke up that morning, his first thought had been to the day. He was going to run some experiments on a severed foot he had stored in the fridge, and then he was going to phone Lestrade and casually inform him that the Murderer of Elizabeth Murphy was the School teacher.  
And finally he would gallivant around the house shouting "Bored!" to anyone that would listen-unless of course another case rose from the depths.

Seemed pretty picture perfect to him. It just didn't happen like he had expected.

Sherlock had achieved the foot and the phone call wonderfully, but when it came to waiting for a case, that was interrupted by Isabelle Holmes. –Mycroft's pregnant wife.  
The tall, and overly thin woman with long chestnut hair that stopped at the small of her back (it had previously gone down past her thighs but she had it cut) and a pale face with freckles dotting her sloping nose, entered the room with two plastic grocery bags hanging off her pale arms.  
"Hello Sherlock," she greeted sweetly, flashing a white toothed smile, "I brought you some groceries because John's out of town."  
Sherlock looked at her with a raised brow, "Is he?"  
"Sherlock!"  
"Only joking, I'm getting quite good at it," the Holmes brother stood up and took the bags from her-only because she was heavily pregnant mind you- and thrust them onto the table.

Isabelle looked at the bags, "There were eggs in there…"  
Sherlock ignored this, "Why are you here? You're nine months pregnant it hardly makes sense for you to go shopping for me," he said.  
Isabelle sighed, "Mind if I sit?" she didn't wait for him to answer before she lowered herself into one of the chairs, "I'm a bit lonely today, Mycroft has important business 'out of town' all day and Alistair's getting a piano lesson. He'll be taken home by Bastian."  
Alistair was their son, a six year old boy with high intelligence that they had adopted. Mycroft was originally the one to take a shine to him and so took it up with Isabelle who was very pleased with the idea of taking in the orphan. –Bastian was one of their drivers.  
Isabelle Holmes rested her thin hands on her stomach, "It's probably just because I'm pregnant, but I need…I just need someone to talk to and you're who came to mind first," she gave a tired smile.  
"I'm not much of a conversationalist," Sherlock replied simply as he stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankle.  
"Yeah I know," Isabelle replied, making her brother in law raise an eyebrow, "but who else could I go to?"  
This was true; Isabelle seemed to have a very short supply of friends-mostly because she thought herself too inadequate to have them.  
"Alright, what is it you want to-talk about?" he spoke the last two words carefully as though it pained him, he was never good at his sort of thing-John helped a bit.

"I don't know actually, I didn't think I'd make it this far," Isabelle laughed, "Do you have any cases going on?" she ran a hand through her hair.  
"Unfortunately not," Sherlock snarled.  
"Oh that's not goo-ooowooh!" Isabelle leaned forwards and Sherlock found himself sitting straighter as she took in air through clenched teeth. Eventually she stopped and breathed in and out a few times, "This,is not good," she said.  
"What?" Sherlock yelped despite himself, his legs uncrossed and he shifted forwards so he was sitting on the edge of his chair.  
"I-I had something like this when I was coming up the stairs, I think they're contractions," Isabelle said, "Sh-Sherlock do you have some sort of stopwatch?" she asked.  
The younger Holmes brother jumped from his seat and darted into the kitchen, he slammed open drawers, not stopping to consider this sudden sense of urgency and fear that had come to him. He also didn't consider the injustice of her being at *his* home when she started having her child.  
His pale hands finally clasped around an old beaten up stopwatch that he vaguely remembered using to time a Criminal's escape.  
Sherlock stepped back into the room dangling the timer by its slightly crusty rope, "Now what?" he asked, placing himself once again on the edge of his chair.

Isabelle swallowed visibly, "Ok, now we see how far apart the contractions are if they are indeed…contractions," she bit her bottom lip.  
Sherlock pressed the small black button and together they waited. A short while later Isabelle let out a cry of pain and Sherlock quickly pressed the button again, even though in his head he had been counting the seconds along with, "Four minutes thirteen seconds, twenty two milliseconds," he looked up at her.  
"Ok…Ok," Isabelle began to stand up, "Do you know how to drive?"

* * *

"You seem…frightened."  
Isabelle gave Sherlock a disbelieving look, "Of course I'm frightened!" she squeaked, "This is my first baby," she made a loud groaning sound as pain ran through her frail body once again.  
Sherlock made a small sound in the back of his throat, "We're nearly there," he assured, looking straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel incredibly tight.  
Not long after the vehicle came to a stop just outside the hospital, Sherlock jumped from the car and slid over the hood to help Isabelle, "Careful," he said needlessly.  
"I'm ok Sherlock, I'm ok," she soothed as he guided her through the doors. The Holmes brother didn't seem to notice, "PREGNANT WOMAN COMING THROUGH!" he shouted, startling practically everyone in the hospital.  
Two men rolled a wheelchair towards them after a nod from the receptionist, "Sit down here ma'am," one of them said and the other helped Isabelle sit. "Sir please come here and answer some questions!" The receptionist shouted and Sherlock finally to his previously locked gaze off of his brother's wife.

"Her name is Isabelle Lillian Holmes previously Long, she is thirty two this is her first child. She has no allergies and her husband is Mycroft Hershel Holmes."

The woman blinked at him, "Oh, thank you! …Could you repeat that and perhaps say it a little bit slower?"  
Sherlock gave her a look that made her roll ever so slightly backwards in her desk chair, she eventually gathered the strength to fix him with a stare and he started again with the information.

* * *

_"Oh my god darling you look beautiful!"  
"Do I? Do I really?"  
*Smooch*  
"Care to ask that that again?"_

Sherlock Holmes stared at the small TV screen situated in the upper corner of the waiting room, his nose wrinkled, "Don't be ridiculous, she knows. She is highly aware of her _beauty_ and slept with the photographer," he snarled at it as though it had done him some great injustice.  
A nervous looking man stopped looking nervous so just so he could give Sherlock a "What on earth is wrong with you?!" look.  
Sherlock had to stop himself from giving him the Shark Grin (as seen in Sign of Three) that frightened people immensely.  
Without warning a loud ringing filled the room, the nervous man jumped but Sherlock merely reached a pale hand into his coat and removed his mobile phone.

"Yeeelllo?"  
"Sherlock!"  
"Ah Mycroft how nice of you to call."  
"Sherlock truly this is not the time!" snapped the voice on the other end.  
"Are you sure? Seems as good a time as any seeing as your wife is having her baby and you're **_not here."  
_**A soft sigh followed this statement, "I know…I'm afraid I won't be able to make it until much later- work has… detained me," Mycroft seethed.  
"I thought you were the British Government, storm out of the building Umbrella a blazing," Sherlock said, casting a glance back at the television to see that his deduction was correct.  
"You know that if I could do that I would have, I will leave as soon as possible but even then it will take me hours to…Umbrella a blazing?"  
"Forget it," Sherlock replied with a wave of his hand even though his brother couldn't see it.

Now the nervous looking man was staring.  
Sherlock gave him a burning glare which made the man divert his attention to a magazine quickly.  
"Is Isabelle alright?"  
Sherlock turned his attention back to the phone call, "She seemed to be when they took her-"  
"She's alone?" Mycroft said, his voice going almost squeaky.  
"Well I wouldn't have gone in with her now would I? I'm not her husband. Besides, I'm sure you are aware that giving moral support is not my forte."  
"And I'm sure that you're aware that I don't care!" snapped Mycroft.  
Sherlock gave a soft smirk, "Isabelle will be fine Mycroft stop worrying, it's really quite pathetic to listen to. The people working here seem slightly less like the usual brand of Goldfish you come across."  
That seemed to calm his brother down enough, he sighed, "Sherlock I have to go, be sure to threaten the Doctors for me."  
"Believe me, I will," Sherlock replied.  
Mycroft hung up and Sherlock was once again left alone with his thoughts, how long was this going to take exactly? Was he supposed to go in and offer moral support?  
Slowly he curled his legs inward and he wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees.

* * *

Sherlock hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep when a warm hand shook his shoulder, "Mr. Holmes?"  
Like a startled animal he snapped awake and immediately jumped to his feet, narrowly avoiding the Doctor that had woken him. He was brought back into reality by a loud announcement on the TV about some sort of vacuum, he pulled himself together quickly running his pale fingers through his curly black hair.  
"God, sorry about that!" The Doctor apologized, "I didn't mean to star-"  
"Is the baby born?" Sherlock snapped, cutting the man's sentence short. "Wha-Oh yes, congratulations it's a girl!"  
Sherlock allowed himself a half smile, Mycroft would be beyond himself when he heard the news. The Doctor was smiling too, "Is the father not here yet? I have a few medical things I need to bring up with him," he said calmly.  
This made Sherlock tense, "No he's not-what medical problems?" he looked the man up and down- _married, father of four, one cat. Expressing no signs of terrible news-Isabelle is clearly alive.-_ that was as far as he'd gotten before the Doctor spoke, "It's nothing major Mr. Holmes, Isabelle is just a bit tired, she was terribly drained by the birth and might not be able to walk around for a couple of days, perhaps even a week."  
Sherlock nodded, pleased.  
"I think she's awake now would you like to go visit?"  
Another nod.

* * *

Isabelle Holmes clutched a small bundle to her, barely conscious she used her free hand to rub at her eyes.

Lillian Rosalie-Sophia Holmes (A name chosen ahead of time, if she would have been a boy she would have been named Rowan William Holmes) rested on top of her making small cooing noises and observing her surroundings with large gray eyes.  
Isabelle looked up when a low knock came from across the room; Sherlock was standing there looking awkward. "Sherlock come in!" The young woman said, smiling brightly despite the rest of her which still remained in a state of exhaustion.  
Sherlock stepped further into the room, "Mycroft called, he should be here any minute," he said, halting just before the bed he crossed his arms behind his back.  
"How are you faring?" he asked quietly.  
Isabelle raised an eyebrow at him, "Can't you deduce it?" she paused for a moment then spoke again, "Absolutely amazing!"  
The baby in her arms stretched out her tiny limbs as best she could, having just eaten she was now focusing on her Uncle.  
Sherlock looked down at the small pink bundle and hm'ed, "She seems healthy…why is she blonde?"  
Isabelle gave a small chuckle, "My mother was blonde I guess the gene was passed down, otherwise I have no idea," she used her free hand to smooth back the fuzz of blonde hair that rested on her child's head.  
"Mycroft's nose, your chin, I imagine she will have freckles as well once she gets older," the Holmes brother continued.  
"Do you want to hold her?"

This startled Sherlock, Isabelle could tell. His gray eyes widened and fixed on her face, "I'm not particularly keen, no," he said simply and yet when Isabelle lifted the small child a little bit towards him he accepted her into his arms.

_*This has to be the cutest thing I've seen in my life*_ Thought Isabelle as Sherlock awkwardly held the small child, "What now?" he asked, flashing a smile in her direction. Isabelle adjusted her sitting position, "That's all. Just don't drop her," she replied.  
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but didn't make a move to give her back. Instead he adjusted the child so that he could wrap the blanket tighter around her. Lillian tried to grab at his fingers when he did so but was unable to reach them, "Ah!" she shouted.  
She was loud, very loud! She kept making loud noises, reaching out her chubby hands and finally managing to grasp the collar of Sherlock's coat  
The Holmes brother traded his fingers for his coat after that, merely standing there, letting Lillian suck on his fingertips.

"Shall I come back?"

Both Isabelle and Sherlock's attention was snapped to the doorway where Mycroft Holmes was standing, young Alistair holding his hand loosely.

"Mycroft!" Isabelle cried and the Eldest Holmes brother rushed to her side, releasing his son's hand. Isabelle reached up, grabbed his tie and brought his face down so that she could give him a long kiss. "Ew," Alistair mumbled.  
Eventually the two parted from each other and Mycroft stood straight as a rake, his pale hand immediately clasping Isabelle's though.  
"I feel that I should thank you Dear Brother for taking my wife to the Hospital," he said cordially to his brother, "I am most grateful."  
"You owe me," Sherlock replied tersely, "Here." He walked across the room and held out Lillian for Mycroft to hold, the Elder Holmes Brother let go of his wife's hand to accept the child.

Isabelle watched as her brother in law made a hasty retreat, but not before muttering a soft, "Congratulations" at them.  
Pure contentment raced through Isabelle's system as she watched her husband sit down with Lillian so that Alistair could see- a look of pure adoration on his usually emotionless face.

And it hit her like a bolt of lightning that this was the first time she had ever felt such contentment, she had a home away from her emotionally abusive sisters, a husband that she adored and who adored her back, and two lovely children to call her own! Oh, and not to mention a wonderful Brother in law!

It felt impossible for life to get any better!  
Which, in the end, was probably why she had to go.

* * *

**The end probably doesn't make a lot of sense, but at some point I'm going to write a companion story for this and it will make perfect sense.-trust me! ;)  
What'd you think?  
The idea for Isabelle came from a dream, and Lillian and Alistair came from an RPG I'm in ;)  
(Ponypal21 if you *ever* find this, yes this is Cimerone)**

**Please, please review! OvO**


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